The Long Shadow
by ornismon
Summary: For reasons unclear, he took her in and armed her with the tools and the knowledge that would permit her survival in a world that was growing ever darker. He made her, and thus, was responsible for her actions. - A story based on the ending of TDS and the Thief reboot.


I. The Child

It was cold, very cold. The girl's hands rubbed together as she attempted to exhale some warmth onto frostbitten flesh, dark eyes darting about. If she could gather just enough gold, she could find food or a safe place to sleep for the night, just enough to get by another night. She drew a breath in, cringing when she felt the icy air sear through her chest. All in all, this was a terrible night to pick pockets, she figured. Hardly anyone was about. Of course, just her luck that she end up on the streets at this particular time. People were more reluctant to leave their homes in the wake of recent events. Living statues and a twisted old hag, along with the sudden appearance of a giant library in the center of town did not sit well with everyone's nerves.

Another sigh escaped her lips, a jarring sound in the otherwise quiet street. At least there were a few stragglers who didn't have the luxury of hiding. City Watchmen, the occasional Hammerite, and a few odds and ends. She watched from her hiding place in the shadows, hoping to spot a purse or something of value, but t'was all for naught. The best she had managed to nab was a copper piece that fell from an elderly man's pocket, as everyone else seemed to have their purses under lock and key. Hope briefly came in the form of a Watchman's purse, but she was clumsy and instead shoved the man's hip. A slap to the face and a few angry words thrown her way were returned with a kick to the man's shin. His surprise gave her an opportunity to flee, and soon she found herself in a slightly less familiar part of town.

Lovely. Just lovely, really.

Her hands and feet were numb, but her ribs and face stung from a mixture of the stagnant winter air and the angry welt on her cheek from where the Watchman had struck. It occurred to her that she had gotten off quite lucky in a sense, the Watch weren't keen on little cutpurse brats and had a nasty habit of dumping their caught prey on the Hammers, who would have no place for her. Perhaps she'd let herself be caught if they'd take her to prison. At least prisoners had places to sleep and the occasional meal. Come to think of it, Pavelock's incarcerated probably ate better than she could remember in her own lifetime.

Did her stomach just growl? Better not think about food anymore, or it'd get worse. She'd benefit more from returning to the task at hand. There were fewer people in this part of the City, much to her frustration, but there were still people. A little nicer-looking, too. They were bound to have something worth taking on them. Where was she? Auldale? No, it was still a little too shabby to be part of the upper crust. South Quarter, probably. It was hard for her to tell, for she'd never really hung around this area before. Not too bad, though. A sharp breeze forced her to wrap her arms around herself and hunch over to brace against the chill. If she couldn't find coin or jewelry, she might be able to find a place to sleep for the night, at any rate.

Without the clock tower hanging over the City, it was hard to tell how much time had passed since she first set out with the intention of stealing herself enough to get by. She wandered this way and that, keeping to the shadows in spite of the deadly cold and avoiding the light. The taverns and inns were sealed tight, and there weren't any open windows she could climb in through that she could see. Passersby were scarce, and soon she was huddled up against a wall in a smallish alley, legs too weak to stand on. Her stomach churned painfully, another betrayal her body threw her way. Perhaps it was the end. If she was lucky, she'd fall asleep and drift off for good. Apparently it was nicer that way. Blinking was getting easier, and keeping her eyes open harder.

_ It'll be okay if I close my eyes for a bit._

She yawned and squeezed herself tighter, making a pillow out of her knees. This wasn't a bad way to go, just close your eyes and...

_ Did something move over there?_

Every hair on the girl's body seemed to stand alert as she was roused rather uncomfortably from the beginnings of slumber. Though she could not fathom why her body had forced her awake, it soon became apparent that she was not alone. Someone - something? - was moving in the shadows. Walking, perhaps? It was hard to say. The girl peered into the darkness, her breath caught in her chest as she waited. Could it be the hag so many spoke of, or one of the strange living gargoyles? Hmm, no. Not unless the gargoyles wore leather boots to soften their footsteps and the bent hag had somehow sorted out her back problems.

The stranger briefly lightened, allowing her to make out what appeared to be a grown man. His frame was draped in a dark cowl, hood up, and when she listened, the girl could hear the soft clink of what she believed to be coin. Perhaps her luck had not run out.

Strange, though. The man was quite hard to see, and if she did not follow him with her eyes, he would appear to vanish. A sense of foreboding flushed through her before she squashed it down. For the coin, it would be worth taking the risk of approaching him. Mimicking his movements, she stuck to the shadows and moved with care so not to create unnecessary noise and draw his attention.

One pace, two paces, three paces...She was getting closer and closer by the moment! Four paces, five paces, six paces - her hand reached out to untie the purse from the man's belt - seven, eight...He stopped?

Before she could register what was happening, the girl's wrist was caught in what felt like a vice and she was hoisted off the ground as a rough voice greeted her ears.

"That's not for you."

Well, of course it wasn't for her, but she needed it.

"Please, sir, I'm hungry..."

It wasn't a lie, though the last thing she wanted to do was beg and appeal to a stranger. But it was the nature of a rare few people to be kind, especially when faced with a terrified child. She figured it was worth a try, at any rate. If she was lucky, he'd finish her off quickly or drop her and leave her where he'd found her. The hand on her wrist did not loosen, but she was lowered to the ground, something she was surprisingly grateful for. Risking a glance up, she caught sight of an odd expression on the man's obscured face. What was he planning? She braced herself for the worst, but to her surprise, he smiled.

"You have talent. It's no easy thing to...see a Keeper." His smile widened just slightly, baffling her further. "Especially one who does not wish to be seen."

The grip on her wrist loosened and finally relinquished her, and the man's smile faded. She rubbed her wrist and backed away, hackles raised and uncertain as to what her fate would be. Again, the man surprised her by turning his back and walking away, purse in hand. He slowed his steps, inclining his head towards her and speaking once more.

"Nice try, at any rate."

Her eyes narrowed, following the slight movement of his hand as he replaced the purse upon his belt and strode off into the night. Shock kept her bare feet rooted to the street until the reality of the events caught up with her, wariness replaced with the steady burn of a growing fury. How dare he-?! Snarling to herself, she sprinted after him, voice finally returning to her as she kept her focus on his trailing cloak.

"Hey!_ Hey_!" She yelped, stumbling over the cobblestone roads in the man's wake. He slowed, and glared over his shoulder at her. "Yeah! I'm talkin' to you, old man."

The man did not move to face her properly, fueling her anger, but in the dim light from the street lamps she could tell that her words had _irked_ him. Good. She wanted his attention. But alas, as soon as she believed she had it, he was strolling down the street once more.

"I'm busy, kid. Piss off."

"I'm not done with you!"

Perhaps it was an unwise move to pursue him. She typically knew better. But he had spared her and thrown some cryptic bullshit her way, then had the gall to walk off with his purse. It would have been a lesser blow to her pride had he killed or beaten her, like most attempted to do upon catching a pickpocket. For whatever reason, she wanted to rip into the guy for throwing her off and maybe grapple his purse away from him in the process.

"_Oh_, yes you are." His gravelly voice reverberated off the wood and stone buildings, but did not deter her. She balled her hands into fists and lunged, for the time of discussion had ended. One way or another, she'd be victorious.

As though he had been anticipating her move, the man stepped to the side and shoved her. The blow sent her skidding into a wall, smacking against it loudly. Before she could properly react, a gloved hand grabbed the front of her tunic and lifted her so her now-bloodied feet were dangling in the air. She opened her mouth to protest, but the cool metal of a dagger pressed itself ever so slightly against her throat, forcing her to cease her attempt to communicate. Instead, she settled for glaring into the man's eyes - one brown, one an oddly vivid green - while he glared right back.

They stood there like that for a long moment, and then he spoke once more, a slight smirk playing on the corners of his lips.

"Again, _nice try_." The condescending edge to his voice burned her deeply, and she found her small hands grasping at his wrist in an attempt to pry him from her. It did no good. "But I think a brat like you should stick to picking pockets."

He chuckled and dropped her roughly onto the street, sheathing his knife in his belt. She gasped and clutched at her throat, still glaring daggers at him.

"Now, like I said: I'm busy." His expression returned to one of neutrality, and she found that she despised that even more. "I'm not interested in killing some kid, so I'd recommend you take the hint and get out of here."

And then he was gone. One moment he had been towering over her, the next, he had vanished into the shadows. It was only when she was certain that the man had gone that she allowed herself to slump against the wall, one hand over her hammering heart. Again he'd spared her, rubbing salt in the wound. With a shuddering sigh, Erin forced herself to her feet and eyed the cloudy sky above the City. It had been a shit night, and she'd have to make do with a thrown together shelter. If she was lucky, she'd be able to find a crate or worm her way into someone's unlocked house for a bit of warmth.

That was the first time Erin had a run-in with Garrett.

* * *

The second time Erin ran into him was down by the docks, some weeks later when the incident had begun to fade from memory.

A fellow street dweller and the closest thing she could call a friend - Luce - had given her a valuable tip. Shipments of dried fruit and meat were being prepared to go out for trade. If one were to time it right and slip by the guards in the warehouses, they would be able to get their hands on a reasonable supply of food that wouldn't spoil. In exchange for the tip, the profit(or in this case, the food) would be split between the pair. Of course, Erin would have to get a substantial amount of rations. But she was small and fairly ordinary in appearance. With proper care and planning, she could get into the warehouses without notice and fill a couple bags, then slip out before anyone realized something was amiss.

Both she and Luce agreed that nothing could go wrong. They spent a few hours studying the warehouse and even went so far as to scrawl a crude map on a piece of ratty parchment. The guards rotated shifts every two to three hours and were quite lackadaisical in their work, chatting each other up and falling asleep where they stood at odd times.

"I can keep watch from here," Luce had said while gesturing to a corner of their map. "I'll climb up to the roof and yell if there's trouble."

She found the idea of yelling to be a bad idea, however, and they agreed upon a different alert system. Luce would still sit on the roof, but he would whistle to keep Erin up to date with the situation. A short, bird-like whistle would give her the all-clear, while a long and shrill one would signify danger and let her know to keep alert.

It was a good plan, and they needed the non perishable food. That was what she had to tell herself, though she really had no issue doing it. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She wasn't scared. The bluecoats that hung around the market were too sharp. They knew how to wrangle a small thief, and would not hesitate to execute them on the spot if they were caught.

Of course, that didn't mean the bluecoats at the docks were easily fooled. She was prepared to deal with them. But at least they seemed more relaxed in comparison to their coworkers in the marketplace.

When all was said that was needed to be, Erin and Luce moved to their respective positions. It was nightfall, after all. Time to begin the job. With three bags tied about her waist, she slipped along the wall of the warehouse and began to wait. And wait. And wait. The guard posted at the side gate was to end his shift soon, at least, so she thought. From the corner of her eye, Erin could vaguely register the nimble form of Luce clambering up the abandoned brick building towards an open window when something drew her attention away.

There, in the shadows across from her, crouched the man. Erin felt her breath catch in her throat as their eyes met, hands gripping her shoddy trousers tightly. From the way the man's eyebrows seemed to twitch upward and then knot together, she could tell he was none too pleased to see her, either. He seemed to want to say something, but instead opted to pull his hood down over his eyes and press back against the wall as the guard cleared his throat.

"S'someone there?"

Erin tensed as heavy footsteps began to head her way, and risked a glance up at the man.

Had one of them been spotted? But he was gone.

She did not have to wait long to figure out where the man had gone when a soft thunk, followed by a loud thumping sound caused her to jump where she crouched. Beside her lay the unconscious body of the side gate guard, with a small dent in his helmet where he had been struck.

"You're welcome."

Erin stumbled upright to glare at the man, who was slipping a small blackjack into his belt. He opted to avoid her gaze and instead knelt down to grab the bluecoat, flinging him over his shoulder unceremoniously. The body is tossed into the dark corner the man had previously been sitting in before he turns to actually look at her this time.

"Well? Are you coming?"

There was much reluctance on her part. She didn't know his man, having only met him once before. But something in his words triggered her curiosity, and a desire for something different, something better. Though there was no guarantee that this wasn't going to be another scrape with death, she opted to follow him.

They did not stay together long, parting ways once the man had disabled the more fidgety guards. Wandering in his shadow, she only allowed her eyes to leave his form when she happened upon the crates she sought. What luck! They had not yet been sealed. Any initial wariness of the man was pushed to the back of her mind as she filled her bags to the brim, eager. Luce's face would be priceless. But by the time she had finished her gathering, she was alone. This time, Erin was almost sad to find herself without company, save for the unconscious bodies that had been stuffed into the shadows.

This was all forgotten when a shrill cry and what sounded like a long whistle broke through the silence of the warehouse.

Startled, she almost dropped the bags in her haste to leave and locate her partner. A few dried peach slices toppled out of one sack, but she disregarded it. As fast as her legs could carry her, Erin was out the side of the building, looking about wildly for the source of the sound.

It did not take long to locate it, thankfully. Luce was hanging out of the open window he had set to look out from, looking absolutely terrified. No bluecoats in sight, just the poor boy scrabbling against the dirty red bricks to stop himself from falling. Upon catching sight of his friend, Luce tried to wave and call out to her.

"Erin! Thank th' Builder you're okay!"

She dropped the bags and clambered up the crates that had been carelessly stacked beneath the window, glaring daggers at her friend.

"What're you lookin' at me like that for - oof! Ow!"

With a swift motion, Erin had grabbed the gangly boy's legs and tugged him down onto the crates, forcing him to land with a loud thud. Rubbing his lower back, Luce winced and this time had the decency to look ashamed.

"I just saw some guy in black runnin' around and got worried, that's all." He tried to grin sheepishly, but quickly sobered up upon receiving another nasty look from the girl.

"I thought one of the City Watch got you." Erin hissed, hopping off the crates and looking around, hoping that no one had heard the ruckus. "Be careful, Luce!"

"Yeah, I know...I just saw that guy and was, well...y'know." He caught sight of the bags on the pavement and brightened up. "Ah! So you _did_ get the food after all."

Erin lifted one of the bags and slung it over her shoulder with a shrug. Though she was grateful for the assistance the strange man had provided, it had also rubbed her the wrong way. Why help her after roughing her up merely weeks prior?

No matter. She and Luce had enough food to last a while, if they divided it wisely betwixt themselves. It was highly unlikely she would run into the man again.

At least, she hoped that was the case.


End file.
